After I said that, an image of the strange man I met earlier popped into my head.
Chael.
He was so tall and breathtakingly gorgeous with his well-built body, copper skin tone, and high cheekbones that would make any supermodel from the ’90s jealous. He had to be Native, at least partly so. The long, silky, dark braid that hung over his shoulder called back to images of Native Americans I’d seen.
Standing under the scrutiny of his gaze made me feel like I was sixteen all over again. The memory of being laughed at by the popular kids in my school came flooding back. You seriously think I would date you? Even thirteen years later, at twenty-nine, those memories still stung.
“It could,” Ms. Anderson said, bringing my attention back to her. “You’re quite a catch, Reese.”
“Hmph. Yeah, well, if you just so happen to see any hot, single, and rich guys hanging out in the halls of Creekview, you be sure to send them my way.” I shook my head, not even in disbelief, but simply because it was fantastical thinking.
Most men never gave me a second glance. I’d become accustomed to being overlooked by almost everyone, not just men. Even my mother didn’t bother sticking around for much of my life. Instead, she passed me off to my grandmother, who raised me.
In my world, most people didn’t tend to stick around, not for me. I was rarely anyone’s second or third choice, let alone their first.
“You know if you stopped spending so much time with us old folks and spent more time dating, you could find a man worthy of you,” Ms. Anderson offered.
“How was your dinner?” I jutted my head toward the half-eaten peas, rubbery turkey breast slices, and the watery gravy on her tray.
“Eck.” She pulled a disgusted face.
“Then I was right to sneak you in a little something, huh?”
Ms. Anderson perked up, her cloudy, hazel eyes sparkling in interest. “What’d you bring?” She whispered.
I retrieved my bag on the windowsill and peered over my shoulder at the door before pulling out a package of Reese’s peanut butter cups.
“Mmm,” Ms. Anderson hummed as I handed her one of the chocolate delights. She closed her eyes and inhaled as she chewed the first bite.
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, watching her. It hearkened back to the days I spent with my nana in this same nursing home. She’d died two years earlier, but I’d visited her every day she was in this place.
That was when I learned how lonely residents in nursing homes could get. So many never received visitors, and the staff was so overwhelmed taking care of all of the residents. I volunteered because everyone deserved to have a companion, to know that someone cared about them. That was why when residents started disappearing mysteriously, I grew concerned.
“How is it?” I asked as I handed Ms. Anderson a second peanut butter cup.
“So good.” She looked like a kid in a candy store. “You aren’t having one?”
I put my free hand on my hip. “You know me better than that. I had two before I got here.”
She tossed her head backward and laughed.
“I have to cut you off,” I told her when she went to reach for a third cup. “You don’t want to get me in trouble, do you?” The last thing I needed was for Ms. Anderson’s blood sugar to spike or something, which after two Reese’s peanut butter cups, could happen.
“Let’s play a game of dominoes,” I suggested.
I went over to the wooden dresser to retrieve the box that held the domino pieces from the top drawer. When I turned back, Ms. Anderson stared out of the window.
“It’s a full moon,” she said, without looking back at me.
The moon sat high, brightly lit, as if it watched over us. I shook my head. “Almost a full moon. That’s a waxing gibbous. The phase right before the full moon.”
“You know these things better than I do,” she said.
I gave the moon one final look before placing the dominoes box on the dinner table over Ms. Anderson’s bed.
“Carlita used to love to play with me.” The somber note in her voice pulled at my heart. I patted her hand. “My nana always told me, the people we love never leave us.” I stroked her hand. “Let’s play.”
Carlita was Ms. Anderson’s last roommate. The two women had gotten along well and lived side by side for a little over a year. Then all of a sudden, Ms. Carlita’s bed was empty. I asked Ms. Anderson, and she said that one day she woke up and her friend was gone. When I spoke with the nursing staff, they said she had a heart attack in the middle of the night.
